


5 Times Quirin Noticed his Son had Changed and One Time he Didn't

by jukori



Series: Between the Lines [2]
Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Night Terrors, Quirin is a good dad, Quirin tries really hard, Ruddiger is awesome, Sad Varian (Disney), Varian-Protection-Squad, things are complicated, varian needs help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jukori/pseuds/jukori
Summary: Quirin noticed the ways Varian had changed during his absences. Some things are obvious, others not so much. For him, the imprisonment in the amber felt like the blink of an eye, but for Varian time had moved on and gradually it starts to sink in what that really means…All in all, Daddy-Quirin is not amused aka. Quirin is and has always been the president of the Varian-Protection-Squad!
Relationships: Quirin & Ruddiger (Disney), Quirin & Varian (Disney), Ruddiger & Varian (Disney)
Series: Between the Lines [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653445
Comments: 108
Kudos: 319





	1. The Obvious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sing me a lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Obvious: Justice and a Broken Body

  
_Wither and decay…end this destiny,_  
_Break these earthly chains,_  
_And set the spirit free. The spirit free._  


A haunting melody crawled over unforgiving stonewalls. Slowly it filled each corner with sorrow and death, draining the life from everything in its reach - a true fuel for nightmares.   
  
He rose to the sound of familiar voices whispering in the dark. His head throbbed violently around his skull, comparable to a toothache for the brain, right between the eyes. Colorful spots danced in his vision and he had to push down the upcoming nausea. Not sure what had happened, he tried to lift the fog from his hazy mind till it gave way to a flood of memories. A blizzard was about to swallow the kingdom. He remembered the panic in Varian's gaze seconds before he'd left to face the grim cold in desperate need for help. It was too dangerous outside. Ice and snow and pain were the only things waiting in a storm. Why didn't he stop him? Why didn't he went after him? Something was missing. An eerie yellowish glow flashed up in his subconscious, the burning sensation of reacting chemicals over his skin, an acrid smell, and the silence solely shattered by a crunch that grew and grew, coming from every direction, getting closer, getting louder, more frantic... - _The amber!_ He was trapped. There had been no escape, crushed from all sides he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. His heartbeat quickened. Time had passed both in slow motion and in a flash as the rock-like substance crept around him, constricting and binding until the blackness of his golden prison was absolute. 

  
"Dad! Dad, you're alive!" His son's calls saved him from a different kind of prison.

Varian flung himself at his chest - nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of the impact. Like always Quirin was there to soften the blow. Weak-kneed they reached for each other and Varian buried his face into his dad's coat. Hot tears soaked through the fabric as his child wept freely in his arms, not even pretending to stifle his cries any longer. Never had Quirin felt more grateful. Reveling in the endless relief, he allowed himself to relax. His son was safe. They were together. Nothing else mattered. 

  
“Dad the note! Wha-What-what did it say? I need to know.” 

Lovingly he watched Varian tumble over his words, same as he’d done so many times. Quirin gently cupped the side of his face in his hand, his palm a vicious contrast to the white of his skin. He didn’t think he could ever have this again, treasuring the moment on and on, not ready to let go just yet. Though he _did_ remember the letter. He also remembered the regrets while writing it… so many things untold, so many things never to be heard, all bleeding over a single crumbled piece of paper. What a fool he was. Varian deserved better and Quirin would be.

  
"... I am so proud of you Varian. I always have been," he summarized it’s core and pulled him back into his arms. 

  
As the world tilted unsteady around him Varian leaned in. Surrounded by a steady warmth and tugged under strong arms he finally felt safe. 

  
"I love you, dad," Varian said, as he accepted the embrace and snuggled as close as he could, soothing an ache Quirin didn’t know he had. 

  
"I love you too, son."

  
He couldn’t ask for more. Hanging on to the sweet and kind light in his arms, he swore to always be there no matter the cost. However, behind the pride and joy lurked a shadow, for light was a tricky thing to catch. His smile faltered. He couldn’t quite put it into words, but something was wrong and it began to worry him. Upon close inspection, Varian looked tired. Not just his usual tired, like when he would stay up all night to tinker with one of his machines. His bloodshot eyes acted almost as a distraction for the heavy bags below. The exhaustion reached deeper, it clawed at his very being, with ugly scars and bruises engraved in body and soul … as if Varian would fall apart if he pressed too hard. Cradling his fingers through Varian’s hair, Quirin eased his touch further.

  
Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe it was just the stress from the current events sneaking up.

  
Reassuringly he rubbed careful circles over Varian’s back and then it hit him. From beneath his cloth, he could feel _bones_. Sharp shoulder blades stuck out like thorns and he actually sensed the rips under Varian’s vest pressing against him. Sure Varian always tended to lean on the skinny side of the spectrum - inherently a beansprout, but never like this!   
His gaze fell and for the first time, he truly saw the thin and pale child for what it was. Had he been starving? Quirin was going to be sick. The thought alone was laughable. The Princess of Corona was with him, so his son was clearly under royal care…

The urge to shield Varian from the world fought with his rising anger. What were they doing to him? He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Someone would have to answer for that and he promised not to rest before he got to the bottom of this, but for now, he was content simply holding his son. He kissed Varian’s head. It was fine, nothing that wouldn’t be fixed by a gentle reminder of food and a tad of sleep. 

Everything was going to be okay. 

  
.  
.  
.

  
Or not? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately, I think Quirin needed to hear Varian's 'I love you' as much as Varian needed to hear Quirin's 'I am proud of you'. 
> 
>   
> Next: The Usual: Honesty and a Bleeding Soul


	2. The Usual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And tell me a story. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Usual: Honesty and a Bleeding Soul

The last note of the lullaby had perished and Varian was dead to the world. 

It wasn’t logical or rational but Quirin couldn’t bring himself to let go of the child in his arms. Gently he rocked the limp figure back and forth, holding him close was the only thing he could do. His body was light as a feather, but at the same time, the old soldier wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to carry the burden. 

He had listened to Varian’s gruesome tale - every word a struggle, each sentence a battle with stakes way too high. In the midst of the fight, he wondered if Varian had already forgotten what peace felt like. His bedtime story was such a horrid one. One of his own making. 

With blood on his hands and thoughts caged by fear, his son had dragged on, revealing a truth Quirin just wasn’t able to cope with. What had happened, what he’d done, how far he strayed… it was terrifying. And a cruel voice whispered: _he’d do it all over again for you._

A hurricane of emotions had raged in him, shock, anger, disappointment. They threatened to swallow him whole, however, one glance at the tormented soul in front had been enough to remind him what he needed to do. He took them all - all the frustration, all the anguish and misery, and buried them deep inside. In the darkest corner of his mind, he’d locked them away to come back eventually. Right now was neither the time nor place to waver. He remained steady and clear while the world behind them crumbled to pieces. He could fall apart later. 

Patiently he had waited for Varian to finish. His son’s physical exhaustion, of keeping a blank face, of not giving in, not breaking down, had been clear. And when he did, when he finally broke, when Varian couldn’t keep the shards together anymore, Quirin used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the sorrow rolling over his cheek. A drop in the ocean and a splinter in his heart. 

“It seems to me that you’ve punished yourself enough, Varian.” 

The surprise with which his child had reacted was the final nail in his coffin. Something just snapped and made way for a pain he’d never known before…he had failed him so often. 

Quirin breathed the softest of kisses against his son’s forehead. “Good night,” he said lovingly while tugging him in. It had been a very long day.

Quenching out the light, he picked up the little ball of fur that had curled up next to them. He too had fallen asleep as they faced time together. Absentmindedly he ruffled the fuzzy, grey spot behind Ruddiger’s ear. 

“Off you go.” He carried the drowsy Raccoon downstairs and fondly placed it outside. The evening was shrouded by a comforting curtain of warmth and darkness. At the confused, almost scandalized look of the tiny creature a hint of a smile crossed his lips.

“You’re home now,” he chuckled, affectionately petting it’s head once more, “Tomorrow you two can play again.” Varian needed his rest - they probably all did. He closed the door and the melody of little paws clawing at wood followed him for a couple of moments until it got absorbed into the moon’s lonesome dirge. 

“A year…,” Quirin muttered to no one as he tried to organize his swirling thoughts. 

The hours slowly passed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his temples. Maybe he should - Suddenly a scream burst through the night. 

“Varian,” he gasped. With instincts skyrocketing, Quirin forced himself into action.

The boy was right where he had left him. Sprawled on the bed, he tossed and turned. White sheets tangled around his small frame and a layer of cold sweat covered his trembling limbs. 

Behind closed lids, Varian’s eyes twitched violently. Quirin winced at the ugly mask of agony and terror that was branded onto his son’s features. An endless stream of tears poured down his pale face as his cries echoed on, getting louder and more desperate by the second. Wave after wave was ripped from his throat, crashing against the silence without ever being pulled back into the ocean. 

“Varian, what's wrong?” Quirin inched forward. 

He didn’t answer and panic spread through his veins. With every rapid breath, Varian’s chest rose and fell faster. Between dreams and reality, his screams continued, coughing and hacking till he was completely hoarse. 

“Please, stop.”

Quirin’s pleads fell on deaf ears. The child was inconsolable, there was no way he could reach him like that. Varian’s trashing became erratic and getting air into his lungs was a task he slowly started to fail. Something had to be done. Quirin squared his shoulders. 

“Calm down son,” he commanded with all his authority. 

Nothing, just tears, and screams. Could he even hear him? Quirin put his hands on his shoulders, offering comfort and demanding attention, while simultaneously trying to stop him from potentially harming himself. Beneath his fingers, he could feel the wild beat of Varian’s heart pounding against hot skin. 

“Varian… you have to wake up,” he tried in vain.

No reaction. He tightened his grip, to his horror, it backfired spectacularly. Varian’s whole body flinched and his eyes snapped open. Instantly Quirin wished they didn’t. There was no light in them, no recognition, just emptiness. It felt like someone pulled the rug from under his feet and now Qirin was falling. He had seen the same look a lifetime ago. There was nothing he could do to save her. Useless, why was he so useless?

Something shattered in the dark as the twisting body below called for him. Way too late he realized Varian’s frantic struggle to get away from him - from the looming shadow above. _Shit!_ For Varian, there was no difference between being hold and held down any longer. His breath grew shorter and shorter while the torture went on. 

”No. No.nonono,” Varian begged, voice cracking with fear. If hell exists it was right here in his head. He began to hyperventilate. 

Immediately Quirin let go and watched Varian struggle to put some distance between them. He couldn’t help...Couldn’t stand it. He took a traitorous step back and then another and another. 

Varian’s coughing turned into choking.

What should he do? His own panic started to overwhelm him. His hands clutched at the door-frame. 

Before he could make up his mind a grey shadow rushed past him. Soaring through the air Ruddiger jumped right into Varian’s lap. He was a mess, tousled by mud and dirt, but his black eyes gleamed with determination as if it was a matter of life and death. Was it?

Varian was shaking like a leave, but the resolve of his little buddy was shining bright. Standing on his hind legs his small paws reached up, scratching gently along the wet lines of Varian’s face. Eager sounds of cooing and chittering followed and drowned out the distraught sobs erupting from the boy. 

Out of reflex, Varian clung to him, his tears soiling his fur even further. Ruddiger didn’t care and neither did Varian as his fingers mindlessly traced its pattern. 

Ruddiger pressed his cold nose against the gape of his neck and Varian blinked. Sluggishly he looked down. 

“Ruddiger?” he asked by some miracle. His disoriented voice appeared light-years away. With memories muddled and fuzzy, a part of him still picked up on the distress of his friend - totally oblivious to his own. 

Ruddiger scratched at his chest a bit more, just for good measures, and Varian buried his face in his soft fur. “…’s okay…I got ya…” He relaxed. His frown slowly smoothed while his breath evened out.

The raccoon purred and claimed his rightful place at Varian’s side. Finally, the boy collapsed around the rodent. In the emptiness of his room, they both sank back into their nest of blankets and pillows. 

.  
.  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where credit is due:
> 
> Quote: “It seems to me that you’ve punished yourself enough, Varian.” by vaguenotion ('Like Blood From A Stone'; chapter 5; go check the fanfic out if you haven't, it is amazing!!!)
> 
> Next: The Expected: Generosity and Silence


	3. The Expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Expected: Generosity and Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This plays before 'Be Very Afraid'

  
The leaves of the old oak Varian was sitting under rustled wistfully. Quirin sighed. It was another quiet day. Every day was a quiet day. Up high, birds gracefully danced between lazy rays of sunshine, while puffy clouds sprinkled the endless sky. Cumulus, his son had called them once.

With each step, Quirin felt the soft grass bend under his feet and his chest tighten. “What are you reading?” He asked into the blue.

A docile breeze toyed with Varian’s hair as he looked up in surprise. For hours he had been lost in the passing pages of the massive book in his lap. Next to him Ruddiger yawned and gently pushed his head into Varian’s pant leg. Clearly enjoying the warm weather the raccoon rolled on his back and let the sun do his bidding. Like an overprotective bodyguard, Varian’s tiny rodent-friend was never far. 

“A book,” the boy answered.

Quirin nodded and put a plate of apple slices down at Varian’s side - it was kinda funny how they always tasted better when someone just took the time and effort to cut them. 

He watched Varian’s eyes glaze impassive over the treat. There was a moment of silence and Quirin counted the seconds in his mind. He wasn’t going to rush him. He knew if he was patient Varian would eventually continue to offer further information. Still, it irked him. Varian was a chatterbox by nature. For God’s sake, the child could talk before walk. However, recently he kept to himself, always a little confused and suspicious when expected to speak more than necessary. It made Quirin’s heart ache and his fist clench. 

At times he just wanted to scream, to shake him until, everything was back to normal - until the words would pour out of him, a mile per minute like they were supposed to. _What is it about? Is it interesting? Would you recommend it? Do you like it? Do you hate it? How are you? What are you thinking? Please, talk to me!!!_

“It’s about languages,” Varian pulled him out of his darkening thoughts.

“Ah, how come? Usually, you’re all about the _science_ ,” Quirin accentuated the last word with a wacky hand-gesture he had seen Varian use on multiple occasions. _Keep it light, keep it easy, keep it together,_ he reminded himself. Just a simple chat, that's all... But oh boy, nothing these days was simple about Varian. Of course he hadn’t expected it to be all puppies and rainbows, however…It shouldn’t be _this_ hard. It never had been before. 

A carefully crafted facade replaced Varian’s otherwise familiar expressions. Uncertainty and distrust were the only things Quirin could recognize. They locked eyes and the air stopped moving. The gaze he received from his son made the hair on his arms stand straight. Never before had Varian sized him up like that. He could almost see the hundreds of thoughts flashing behind those big blue orbs, trying to figure out the man in front of him. What would his verdict be? Weighted and measured, Quirin stood his ground, not allowing Varian to look away he kept his eyes prisoner. 

Varian surrendered without resistance. While closing his book he sighed in defeat. That wasn’t what Quirin had wanted. Ruddiger’s left ear twitched in what seemed like a warning. 

“The princess asked me to help translate Lord Demanitus’ scroll,” he answered his question in a tone Quirin couldn’t place. It sounded like Varian but it didn't. There was something hollow behind it, something that sounded like pain. 

“Oh… and can you?” 

Varian shrugged. "Probably."

“Um,” Quirin scratched the back of his neck not knowing what else to say. Usually, it was Varian who did the heavy lifting in their conversations. Where he had pushed, Varian pulled and now that the roles were reserved he didn’t know how to hold on.

“Good. Good for you son.” He was so bad at this. “I, ahem have to….there is some cabbage to attend…and…gotta go,” he finished lamely. Retreat appeared like the best option, at least for now. He'll try again later. 

Varian returned his focus to the yellowed sheets of paper. The interrogation was over.

  
.  
.  
.

As Quirin started his way back inside, he wondered if this was it. If from now on every verbal exchange between them would end in a medium-sized disaster, with Varian hiding behind his books and he himself fumbling with his words like an utter moron. Come to think of it, Varian always liked to read, especially about chemicals and stuff, but usually, he was a lot more hands-on with his science. When was the last time he had heard an explosion? Quirin frowned. He couldn’t remember. A quick glance over his shoulder managed to distract him from his worries and something warm settled into his chest. 

The scene was almost perfect. Varian engulfed by a gentle golden light, his pet-raccoon on his lap, and each burden forgotten as they shared the sliced apple pieces. There was the softest of smiles on Varian’s lips only reserved for his friend. And only for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The Undeniable: Loyalty and Rejection


	4. The Undeniable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Undeniable: Loyalty and Rejection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This plays before 'The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne'

“No.”

His word was law. There was no anger or frustration, no convincing or clever points. It wasn’t even an argument. It just was. A truth one had to accept like the rising of the sun or the tide swayed by the moon, absolute in its existence and patiently vocalized to remind of what should have been obvious. 

“Son, I understand the two of you have become very fond of each other but it is -” 

“He,” Varian emphasized unamused with his eyes darkening, “is family.” 

The steel concealed in his voice rang loud and clear. To hear it coming from his child felt… strange. In a moment of unpleasant personal realization, Quirin had to admit that Varian was pretty intimidating right now. 

_This is ridiculous,_ he reprimanded himself and shook his head in annoyance. 

They had this conversation already when Varian was seven, and with eleven again, and now that he was fourte- fifteen Quirin still wouldn’t change his mind. No pets allowed. Period. Firsthand he had seen the catastrophic consequences of such a request. And while Adira found it incredibly funny, she never had to clean the stables. No thanks. Not even the cutest pair of puppy-dog-eyes or pouty face the boy could muster would ever manage to convince him otherwise. Though he wasn’t making any of those currently.

Quirin sighed. Varian adored the little critter and vice versa, that was evident. And tho’ he was willing to turn a blind eye whereas they were outside or in his lab and maybe during the occasional late-night visits, there ought to be a limit. The raccoon belonged to the wild and had no business roaming in the house. Bad enough as it was that Varian spent more time with the rodent than actual human beings. So Quirin had to try again, “Don’t you think he miss-”

“He stays,” Varian’s words cut through his bullshit in one sharp line. 

That was that, a fact, as simple as they come. There wasn’t any room for discussion. However, as a father Quirin definitely did not appreciate the tone nor the attitude. 

“Listen, young man, I don’t know what got into you but-”

But he might as well have been talking to a wall, Varian was no longer interested in the pointless conversation, he turned his back towards him, ending a battle whose outcome was apparently decided from the start.

“Wait!” 

This wasn’t over. He caught Varian by the upper arm. His grip was by no means rough yet it wasn’t exactly gentle either. Neither would have made a difference, as Varian flinched violently at the unexpected touch. For a split second, the boy’s eyes widened in fear and his breath became shallow. Everything moving was a threat. He resembled a spooked animal more than the child he knew and loved. 

“What the-”

Varian’s world snapped back into place. He jerked away in surprise and Quirin released him just before he would have been cast aside. 

The soldier furrowed his brow. It didn’t make sense. He had seen those signs before.

“What was that?” Low and assertive he demanded his answer, adding pressure to the already tense atmosphere. The thin ice beneath their feet cracked alarmingly, still, Quirin was unable to hear it. 

“Nothing,” came the clipped reply. Varian couldn’t bring himself to meet his father’s gaze.

“This is _not_ nothing,” he pressed on disapprovingly. 

Since their reunion, the two of them were walking on eggshells around another and if there was the slightest chance for them to return to normality, he would gladly push and shove with all his might. Whatever the sacrifice it would be worth it in the end. Varian was hurting. They both were. Frankly, it was only a matter of time until something had to give, and he was not in the mood to let this one slide. 

“I’m fine,” Varian muttered defensive. Absentmindedly he brushed over his shoulder and the part where Quirin’s fingers had found contact.

The older man laughed without humor. _How? How are you fine_ , he almost yelled. He himself wasn’t, and he didn’t experience half of the stuff the child had to in the past year. 

“Well, then you’re on your own. Since I. Am. Not.” Irritation and aggravation morphed into something bitter and thoughtless. Too late Quirin realized his mistake and the accusation he never meant to imply. 

Varian looked like he had been struck. Instantly Quirin regretted his choice of words. A myriad of emotions crossed Varian’s features, so complicated Quirin couldn’t even begin to untangle them. His already pale face lost all color, turning into an ugly white that only highlighted his pain. 

The ‘because of you’ hung heavy and unspoken between them, he could feel its weight dragging him down. He wasn’t sure what to do, how to fix him. All he wanted was to comfort his boy.

“I didn’t -” 

His son’s body started to tremble as he approached, and it was breaking his heart. He did this. 

“Varian,” he called, voice shaking with desperation, but more sad than anything else. His name lingered in the air like a plea, a promise, whatever it had to be for either one. 

Varian blinked owlishly and for a fraction of a second Quirin thought it was going to be okay. 

As soon as he came closer, Varian took a step back.

“Don’t,” he warned. Something dangerous resonated in the shadows, while he felt Varian slipping away. 

Quirin stopped dead in his track. The uninterested, blank mask that was suddenly plastered over Varian’s expression came as no surprise, speaking for itself. Deliberately slow Quirin raised his hands up in the air, only to lower them where he could see. 

It didn’t make sense, he thought again as Varian fled the room, hopelessly trying to escape the cage he was trapped in. 

He had seen those signs before, but it didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t, not in regard to Varian at last…Quirin had some thinking to do. He sighed once more. How could making pancakes go so wrong, he silently asked himself and rubbed his hand over his face. 

.  
.  
.

Varian wasn’t looking back. Only the gentle patter of Ruddiger’s paws accompanied him on the way out. For all that he wanted his father in his life, he had learned that it didn’t necessarily mean he needed him. 

.  
.  
.

As the last ray of sunlight vanished behind the horizon, Quirin gradually came to his senses. He must have fallen asleep on the cozy sofa while waiting for Varian to return home. Not fully awake just yet he took his time to enjoy the fading gold light and the soft fabric around his body that kept him safe and warm. A blanket his mind provided helpfully. Quirin frowned. He was certain he didn’t have one earlier. His eyes wandered down and his lips formed a smile. Varian was sleeping at his feet, his frame leaned against Quirin’s leg and Ruddiger was by his son’s side as always. 

Whatever Varian was going trough, at this moment he knew they would overcome it together, one step at a time. 

In a simple gesture of affection, he moved his hand out to caress the delicate strands of shaggy raven hair and froze in mid-air. All of a sudden he wasn’t sure anymore if this was a wise thing to do. Varian was right here, close enough to touch, but as unreachable as if they were still separated by stone and time.

Space, Quirin understood, of course he did and all the time his eyes were black with disappointment and no one could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where credit is due:
> 
> Quote: “... and all the time his eyes were black with disappointment and no one could help it.” by Tove Jansson ('Tales from Moominvalley')
> 
> Next: The Hidden: Laughter and Fear


	5. The Hidden - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hidden: Laughter and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This plays before ‘The King and Queen of Hearts’

There hadn’t been an explosion in an awfully long time. He had noticed before, but lately, the silence became unbearably loud. Impossible to ignore it screamed against his ears. Quirin gritted his teeth. The absence of sound was deafening. 

“Varian, have you seen my hammer?” He tried to drown it out with his own voice. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn’t.

“It’s probably in the lab,” came the distant reply, followed by the closing of the front door. 

Once again left behind Quirin grumbled irritated. He went down to retrieve the missing item and restore his toolbox to its former glory. A few squeaks and creaks of rusty hinges later and the large laboratory door slid open.

At the chaos revealed his stomach gave a sharp twinge. He had to take a moment. The room was a mess, and not the usually organized one Varian loved to work in. No, in a bizarre way the old basement looked almost violated. His eyes drifted over forcefully turned tables, broken glass, and a carpet of sloppily scribbled notes. It seemed like the day Quirin escaped his golden crypt. 

Well, not exactly of course, time waits for no one. Dust had gathered around forgotten vials and tubes. In thick waves, it covered and swallowed the abandoned solutions that had no light left to spare. Only now and then a soft pattern of small paw prints interrupted the gray curtain which had claimed the treasures once held dear. 

It pained him to see the dried up chemicals doomed in the dark. He didn’t really expect anything else, but somehow against all odds, he had hoped otherwise.

Quirin sighed. _Focus_ , he reminded himself. With a heavy heart, he picked up the sturdy hammer and turned it in his hand. It was time to fix what was broken. The promise glittered darkly in his eyes as he headed upstairs.

There hadn’t been an explosion in an awfully long time. Quirin was determined to change that. 

.  
.  
.

The leader of Old Corona buried his hoe into the ground. The sun was warm on his skin and his muscles burned with anticipation as he let out his frustration on the endless fields. It was just what he needed. When his body was occupied his mind could wander. Again and again, he swung the handle, forcefully plowing up the earth beneath in search of answers. One at a time he would tackle Varian’s problems. 

Though the sentiment was nice the _hows_ were a tad trickier. With Varian, he had to pick his battles very carefully. Some were easier to win than others, but he had to begin somewhere he supposed. 

Quirin was a simple man. By no means stupid, but he preferred to address his issues head-on, direct, and straight to the point. Of course, this would not work with Varian at all. He had to revert to more, um, underhanded tactics.

Thank god that this wasn’t as much of an obstacle as one might think. Quirin could be rather sneaky if wanted. People assumed Varian was a sly little fella, but he had nothing on his old man. All he needed to do was to play a bit dirty. And while it felt kinda cheap he was fine with it, doing the right thing wasn’t always easy or popular.

Over the past couple of weeks, an idea had formed in his mind. He’d listened closely to the latest gossip and tittle-tattle of the villagers and was now ready to get the ball rolling. 

As he reached the end of the row, he squared his shoulders. It was time for action. 

“Need any help princess?” As if by chance he asked and raised a questioning eyebrow, fully aware that the wild monkey in the tree could rather use a leash than a ladder. 

The child sitting between the branches just giggled and shook its head. Leaves and sticks stuck out of unruly brown hair, but there were also two flower clasps in it. Quirin smiled.

“I am no princess.” She swung her legs back and forth but seemed pleased with the compliment nonetheless. 

“Isn’t every little girl? At least once a year.”

She tilted her head before her eyes went huge in realization. 

“Because of my birthday!”

_There we go_ , Quirin thought and nodded as seriously as he could.

“You must be really excited about your big party?” 

“Party?” Her brows furrowed. 

“Well sure, all princesses get to have one. With music and dance and -”

“And cake,” She chimed in with joy.

“Exactly, and cake. Everyone will be there. It’s gonna be so much fun. You know, like princess Rapunzel's birthday. Her floating lanterns are very pretty don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, I love them.” 

Quirin took a deep breath. “I can’t wait to see what you're going to come up with. I’ll bet it’s going to be amazing.” This was his make-or-break moment. “Once I saw a huge firework in -”

“I read about those,” she interrupted eager. 

Expertly he suppressed rolling his eyes. The book Quirin recommended her father a week ago had more pictures than words in it, so to call it ‘ _reading_ ’ was a rather huge stretch in his opinion. The poor man had been terribly concerned about his precious Darlings tendencies lately. Playing with swords and frogs in the mud was one thing, but the day little Lizzy gave her baby brother a wet-willy was the straw that broke the camel's back. This undignified attitude does not befit a young lady, he’d heard him say. 

“Oh, you did?” The village leader continued their conversation.

“Yes, they are soooo beautiful. Sparkling lights everywhere.” 

He could almost hear the soft rustling of feathers followed by her thoughts ready to spread their wings. He was so close.

“One of those would be great wouldn’t it?” Quirin coaxed. 

“Yes! It’ll be like shooting stars raining from the sky.”

“And only for you.”

He had to strike while the iron was hot. The recent trip to the capital and countless complaints of her parents had proven so much. Lizzy was at this particular age where she pointed at the first shiny object and declared solemnly with a hand crossed over her heart that this was the one thing she wanted as a birthday present and nothing else, just to change her mind as soon as her eyes fell on the next cute trinket she could leech onto. The girl was as fickle as the sea. 

“Do you know how to make one? I mean with all other things I’ll gladly assist, but I’m no expert when it comes to explosions.”

As she tried to connect the dots Lizzy’s tiny face twisted in concentration. He couldn’t do all the work for her. Right on cue, her eyes widened comically.

“Varian. Varian could,” she mumbled and stopped mid-sentence. 

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Neh, uncle Quirin,” she batted her eyelashes endearingly and Quirin felt a sudden urge to buy her a puppy. She already had one. 

“Do you think Varian could help?” Lizzy purred then with a sweet amicable tone and a matching smile. 

_Absolutely,_ Quirin was certain, and said, “I am not sure, you have to ask him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lizzy is supposed to be the little girl from 'Queen for a Day', Quirin saved in the beginning. I only flashed her out and gave her a name. So not really an OC. She'll turn 6/7 years if someone's wondering. And she is not related to Quirin or Varian - she just calls basically everyone uncle/aunt, cause old corona is a small village (so there are more hits than misses anyway)
> 
> PS: the book Quirin recommended was:'Princess Poppy: The Birthday' (by Janey Louise Jones) - I did not read it, though I liked the pictures


	6. The Hidden - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hidden: Laughter and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This plays before ‘The King and Queen of Hearts’

Lizzy's mouth was pressed into a thin line when her gaze fell yet again on the alchemist. He sat on his usual spot. Same tree, same book, same raccoon - as docile as a lamb. Still, she felt nervous approaching him. 

The girl wasn’t a fool. She’d heard the rumors, even experienced them firsthand. And while uncle Quirin may swore that Varian, kindest of souls, loved to help everyone in need, she knew better. The wizard of Old Corona only did things because he wanted to. If the alchemist was not interested he would reject your request in a heartbeat. After all, Varian never played house or dolly with her no matter how often she asked, and so far he had declined any invitation to her tea-parties. 

Lizzy fiddled with the hem of her dress. 

On the other hand, he did make her favorite glowy colors and accompanied her once or twice to her frog hunts.

Slightly frustrated she ran a hand through her hair. It was impossible to guess what would tickle the alchemist’s fancy. With him, you rarely knew where you were at. He was stupidly complicated like that. 

What should she do?

Leaves rustled encouragingly around her and Lizzy puffed out her chest. She needed to be blunt. If you beat around the bush he wouldn’t get it. There was no helping it. Lizzy raised her chin and unclenched her fists. In one swift motion, the little girl swung her legs into the air and took a leap of fate.

“Firework,” she yelled before jumping down from her hiding place in the tree crown and onto the alchemist.

“Uwwaahhhh,” Varian was barely able to dodge the sudden assault. Not that he hadn’t seen it coming - subtlety wasn’t little Lizzy’s strong point, however, her rambunctious nature put a spin on most of her actions. 

The quirky girl landed heavily next to him. Her feet were planted firmly into the ground as she fixated him with a determined stare. The gaze pinning him down would have been more imposing if she was less adorable. Ruddiger didn’t even bother to lift his head.  
  
“Liz -,” Varian managed before a high pitched voice pierced through his ears.

“Firework!!!Firework!!!Firework!!!”

“What?” 

“I wanna firework for my birthday!”

“Urgh,” Varian groaned. He knew that tone well.

“FIREWORK!!!FIREWORK!!!FIREWORK!!!FIREWORK!!!FIREWORK!!!FIREWORK!!!” She kept on chanting with all her might.

Varian rolled his eyes at the child’s antics. This could take awhile. Her record was 2 hours and 26 minutes of asking his dad to play dress-up with her. It had been hilarious. And who would have thought that pink was the perfect color for Old Coronas oh so proud leader? Of course, Varian’s silence had been generously rewarded with a nice set of glassware, a Bunsen burner, and a refill of his sodium polyacrylate supplies. Good times indeed. 

“Pretty please, it's really important.” 

Predictably enough he was confronted with a precious set of puppy eyes. He shot her an unimpressed look. Seriously she should have learned by now that he was immune to her cutesy act. As if the student could ever beat the master. Why did she even want a firework to begin with? 

“I don’t know,” Varian replied.

Lizzy held her breath as she counted the seconds in her mind. She hadn’t expected anything less from the alchemist and silently cursed her luck. Her charm seldom worked on him, but one had to try. During his absence, her powers had only grown and she became a force to be reckoned with. Neither her parents nor the adults of the village stood a chance. Varian better not underestimate her. It was time to put her skills to the test. 

She stuck her bottom lip out while tilting her head downward and a little to the side. Between thick lashes, huge innocent eyes looked up at him. 

“It’s a lot of work,” he admitted with a schooled expression as he watched her effectively mimicking Eugene’s Smolder. He would have to rearrange his entire schedule. Had he even all the materials? Black powder sure, but the rest… 

Lizzy’s small lips started to tremble. 

Varian frowned. Okay, that was definitely new. Maybe he should add the move to his own arsenal. But could he even pull it off? At his age, the line between cute and creepy was terribly thin. 

“You’re sure?” He asked undecided.

“Yes. It’s my dream - it’s all I ever wanted.”

Varian highly doubt it. He glanced at her once more before a thought hit him. He may have use for her after all.

“So, when exactly is your birthday party?” He inquired.

Despite the pit that opened in his chest Varian laughed at her answer. He laughed and laughed and couldn’t stop. It was a choked laugh, that bubbled out of him like a sob would. As he doubled over he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

“Um, Varian?”

Before the girl could get worried he pulled himself together.

“Fine,” still out of breath he accepted the challenge. “Let's make the sky shine so bright that even the heavens will celebrate that you were born!”

Wind tousled through the alchemist's hair and Lizzy’s heart skipped a beat at the toothy smile Varian flashed her. His eyes shone brightly while her own widened in wonder.   
  
“You can do that?” She beamed excitedly. “Amazing!”

His smile subdued into a sly smirk. “Of course not for free,” he teased and Lizzy’s face fell.  
  
“I need an assistant,” winked the alchemist. “Are you up for the task?”

“Yes,” she squealed euphorically, jumping up and down. She did it! She would have the most beautiful firework in the world. Varian always kept his word. 

A warm feeling settled into Varian’s bones as he watched Lizzy’s little happy dance. But something wasn’t quite right. Not yet. 

There should be a pair of goggles her size somewhere, Varian mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mind screamed angst but my hands would only type fluff...


	7. The Hidden - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hidden: Laughter and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This plays before ‘The King and Queen of Hearts’

Light flooded through open doors accompanied by the sound of bustling activity. Busy footsteps, the clink-clank of glass against metal and the sweet babbling of hushed voices, joined together to orchestrate a well-known melody. Only now Quirin truly realized how much he’d missed this. 

His lips cracked into a knowing smile when a familiar mop of brown hair entered the picture. Slightly astonished, he watched Lizzy’s stubby fingers hold on to as many chemicals as they could. Huffing and puffing she brought them out of the stuffy basement back up into his world. She nearly toppled over a particular mean-spirited stair in the process. Quickly, before the contents of accusingly rattling vials could spill and do who-knows-what Quirin caught the child. He put her and the delicate solutions down. 

“Careful there,” he warned with an amused edge while Lizzy sheepishly thanked him. 

“Where do you want those?” Quirin pointed confused at the girl’s cargo. 

“Outside,” she answered generously as if it should go without saying. “We’re doing fireworks!” 

Quirin sighed, no time for regrets. Admittedly open flames and enclosed ceilings seemed to be a sure recipe for disaster. So yeah, not an indoor activity he would normally approve. “What else do you need?“

“Everything,” beamed Lizzy while wildly spreading her arms.

At the semi-helpful reply, Quirin snorted but offered her a hand anyway.

“May I?”

She nodded and immediately spun around to gather even more supplies for her and Varian.

Quirin shook his head and set off to find trouble-maker number two. His son sat still in the tree’s shadows. Notes already piled around him, each and every corner of the papers were filled with his neat and precise handwriting. Between diverse numbers and symbols, the only thing Quirin could identify was a list of materials required or maybe missing.  
  
Carefully he placed the load in his arms in front of Varian, who looked up from his prep work and eyed him critically. 

All stopped and Quirin felt the tension rise as both of them remained silent. 

“Um,” Quirin shifted from one foot to the other. 

For a second he allowed himself to get distracted by the object Ruddiger carried over. Varian smirked and the raccoon earned a loving scratch between the ears for his troubles, before it headed back inside the house.

Awkwardly Quirin cleared his throat. “What else do you need?” He asked for the second time.

“Everything,” the detonation expert shrugged and returned his focus to the complicated formulas Quirin couldn’t decipher even if his life depended on it.  
  
_Oh well, pack mule it is, nothing easier than that_ , he thought and resigned into his fate. He would need some boxes to save himself the tiresome trip back and forth, but with his two little helpers by his side, it shouldn’t take too long. 

In the end, he had to do the heavy lifting by himself, some of the equipment down there was just too bulky and he couldn’t expect Lizzy or Ruddiger to shoulder them. Still, they finished in no time.   
  
“That should be all,” he panted exhaust as he sat the last piece onto the green grass. 

The kids had already started to engulf fully in their shenanigans. Matching goggles decorated their faces, reflecting the glitter and wonder of alchemy that brightened and dimmed, while colorful lights danced in the open. Both children looked excited. The soft buzzing atmosphere was charged by their lively energy. Sparks erupted and joyful giggles filled the air. 

As he watched them play warmth course through Quirin’s body. For the first time in forever, he breathed freely and simply relaxed. Finally, it felt like home again.

Quirin listened to the song of happiness in the back yard and couldn’t stop smiling. Satisfied he hummed along. He wasn’t a gambler at heart, at least not really but seeing Varian like this was worth it. Mission accomplished.

.  
.  
.

It was getting late. Lizzy left hours ago, but Varian was still outside. He was never good at stopping himself in the middle of well anything and this was no exception. The boy just couldn’t find an end. A very familiar hunger lingered in Varian’s eyes. It always reminded Quirin of a starving man devouring his first meal in months. 

“How is your project going?” He asked as he strolled over and stood before the old barn’s gate, two mugs of hot cocoa in hand. 

‘The barn’ was small and had definitely seen better times. These days it was mostly used for storage, so it turned out to be an ideal place for the kids to set up their outdoor lab. It fit right in with it’s sharp smell of oily metal and machinery as well as fond childhood memories. Though the table they’d chosen appeared far from stable even so the glassware on it was only a fraction from the amount his predecessor had to carry, and Varian’s invaluable notes were pinned by nails with awkward angles on the wooden sides. It wasn’t perfect but it would do. Here at least they were save from the weather’s whims.

Varian arched an eyebrow. “Which one?” He inquired a little tense. 

“Um, the one with the firework?” 

Varian watched his father closely before deliberately changing his tone, sounding a tad too chipper for Quirin’s liking.  
  
“Oh yes, great. It’s almost done.” 

“That was… surprisingly quick,” Quirin replied baffled and suspicious at the same.

“Yeah, turns out little Lizzy likes fire way more than fireworks, so I am building her a flamethrower - takes only half the time,” Varian deadpanned. 

Quirin’s blood froze, his face fell, his jaw dropped, and oh no. Panic. What had he done? The boy's definition of ‘ _dangerous_ ’ was highly compromised at best and nobody could deny Lizzy anything, least of all Varian. He should have known. Both of them got on like a house on fire and because of him now potentially literally. How to explain that to her parents? Desperately he rummaged through his vocabulary for words, looking like a fish out of water while doing so. 

And then, Varian laughed. He just couldn’t hold back his cackles any longer. 

“Ha-ha got ya, just kidding!” The look on his dad’s face was priceless. Unsettling blue eyes shimmered with mirth and glee.

Quirin's grin split his face, and he let out a nervous chuckle as he joined in - as soon as he’d recovered from his mental breakdown of course. It wasn’t quite an explosion yet, but he could feel the sparks. 

.  
.  
.

When Varian returned inside, his gaze was instantly locked on the open entrance to the lab. The knowledge of pain without the white heat of nerves made his hands shake. Without looking inside, he closed the door to the dark abyss, holding his secrets safe to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter (including part 1 and part 2) exists purely because I wanted Varian to say the line: "...turns out she likes fire way more than fireworks, so I am building her a flamethrower..."
> 
> Next: The Unexpected: Forgiveness and Sacrifice


End file.
